Genovian A to Z
by xXXKhrixiaxHikariXXx
Summary: Pretty much what it says on the tin. Pairings vary.
1. A is for All the Small Things

For some odd reason, I don't know why, I decided to do one of these A to Z things with my OC Genovia.

None of these drabbles are connected in any way, so if she's with someone in one, that doesn't mean she'll be with the same person in the other.

A is for... All the Small Things

England could write list upon list on the things he loved about Genovia. Hell, he was certain there would be enough to be able to compile them into one of those romance novels she enjoyed reading so much.

First, he loved how comfortable she was around him and with herself.

Unlike most women around the age she appeared to be, Genovia was in no way insecure about her body nor cared what anyone thought on how she looked. Comfortable enough to walk around the thick-browed nation's house in nothing but a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt.

Personally, if he were to be honest, England thought she was beautiful no matter what the blonde wore. In fact, he swore Genovia could walk around in just a sack and still look good. Knowing her, she'd easily be able to fix it up and turn it into the trendiest fashion thanks to her Italian genetics.

Speaking of Italian genetics, she was one bloody well fantastic cook.

The first morning after they'd had sex, he'd woken up to the smell of baking grease. Going into the kitchen, England had found a plate of bacon and eggs awaiting him at the table.

After just taking one bite of the small meal, he was amazed that something so simple could taste so good.

Not that he would've admitted it of course, but England was more than just a little bit miffed that she could cook better than him. Knowing him as well as she did though, Genovia could guess what was going on up in that little blond head of his.

"You know Artie, your cooking tastes absolutely terrible. We could probably use it as a weapon against zombies if they ever rose up and invaded. But"…

"But what, you little git?!"

Rolling her eyes at the predictable reaction, the blonde went over to the thick-browed nation and placed a kiss on his lips. A faint blush made its way across his cheeks as she slipped in her tongue.

Soon enough though, Genovia released him from the lip-lock she had him under. Giggling at the expression that was now on England's face, the younger nation licked her lips.

"**You** taste delicious".


	2. B is for Banister

Prompt for this drabble was given to me by my cousin. If any of you want to give me a prompt, just send me a review and I'll see what I can do.

B is for... Banister

When she saw America quickly carry a very drunk England out her door, Monaco knew she'd be coming home to some sort of trouble.

However, she wasn't expecting anything like this.

"Uh… hehe, hi there Marcie. Didn't know you were back yet".

Frowning, the blonde crossed her arms. "Alessia, please tell me, why is your head stuck in the banister?"

Genovia was silent for a moment as she tried to find the right words to use to get out of as much trouble as possible. "Well… I was drinking with the guys, and Alfred suggested we do… something that was kind of cool".

"Cool? And what exactly was that?"

… "Surfing on the stairs".

The principality sighed before she pulled on her head. "What with?"

"OW! The mattress".

Taking in what her girlfriend just said, Monaco's face went red with anger. "YOU WERE MATTRESS SURFING?! WITH MY MATTRESS!"

"Well, what else was I supposed to use?"

SMACK

"Ow! Why?"

"You deserved that". Huffing, the blonde went off towards the kitchen.

"Wait, where are you going?! Come back! Marcie!"

"Oh, stop whining. All I did was get… the tools".

"Tools?"

"Oui, this isn't the first time I've had to do this. Now keep still". Buttering up the other blonde's neck and ears, Monaco pulled against the two poles her head was stuck between

Getting the idea, Genovia pushed herself away until her head was finally free of its wooden prison. "Heh, thanks".

"Don't thank me, idiot. Just go and put that back upstairs". The blonde pointed at the mattress hanging precariously from a few steps near the corner of the stairs. "And while you're at it, make sure everything's back where it was".

"Of course, of course. Whatever you say".

As she watched island nation start to pull the large mattress up the stairs, Monaco sighed and went to put the butter away in the fridge.

"She really is an idiot, isn't she? But, then again"… The principality looked at a photo of them together attached to the fridge, her lips turning up into a small smile.

"At least she's my idiot".


End file.
